Kitchen
by CuttingOnions
Summary: House, Cuddy and the kitchen counter. WARNING: SMUT. Established relationship.


**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Don't sue.  
**A/N:** Thanks to Veresna Ussep for correcting this story for and for being awesome and suggesting me some things

* * *

He liked to have sex. Everywhere.

It's not like you are complaining. But sometimes it left you with a burn or a few marks in some places.

It was worth it though.

You could count on one hand how many times you two slept, or rather, had sex in a bed since you started "this" (you wouldn't dare to name _it_).

It has been two months now, and you two are still acting like horny teenagers. Doing it everywhere - on your couch most of the time.

But today is different.

He arrives when you are making a salad for yourself in the kitchen; walking in your direction, looking at what you are doing before resting his hands on your waist, watching as you cut a carrot.

"You are early," you say, reacting to the feeling of him caressing you under the hem of your blouse and almost cutting your own finger.

He chuckles.

"I thought you had a case," you add, trying to regain your composure.

You stop cutting the carrot when you feel his hands make their way underneath your shirt, cupping your lace-covered breasts.

"The team can handle it," he says, starting to kiss your neck.

"I'm cooking," you complain, but only half-heartedly because you can feel the heat that is starting between your legs.

He sucks just the right spot on your neck, and that's when you give up trying to resist him. Tossing the knife away, you turn around so your lips can finally crash against his, once more making the perfect collision. He wasn't exactly _the_ best kisser, and you weren't either. But, you think, the two of you combined somehow makes it perfect. It's what makes everything perfect. Your lips only break apart when he lifts you up just enough to put you on the counter.

You worry about his leg, but figure that he must be having a good day, because his mouth is pressed against yours again in no time, his tongue making the perfect movement against yours.

When he breaks the kiss you miss it, but you forget about it when his lips start to trail kisses down your neck and to your collar bone. You close your eyes when he reaches your cleavage, still managing to reach his shirt and starting to unbutton it.

You try to slide off of the counter, so that you two can go somewhere more comfortable, but he doesn't let you.

You push him a little so he can look at your face. You arch your eyebrows and he gives you a silly smirk before giving you a light kiss on your lips.

"I cook here," you say, while he is still giving you light kisses all over - on the corner of your mouth, on your chin, on your cheek, on your earlobe, and heading down to your neck again.

He stops for a moment, and looks down to your cleavage. And you know that he is not going to stop to move somewhere else.

He steps closer to you. And you can almost feel his erection between your legs, but he is not that close - wishful thinking, you figure.

He looks at you when he says: "It's not like you never swallowed before," and it makes you blush.

You feel his hands travelling up your thigh, under your skirt and in between your legs. He thinks your shyness is cute, and kisses your nose; you chuckle and look in his eyes, biting your lower lip.

"If this is a problem we can go to my place," he says, touching his lips to yours. "I guarantee that I _never_ cook there," he continues.

"Shut up," you say, grabbing the collar of his shirt, bringing him closer to you. And you kiss him hard while his hand finds its way to your panties, brushing against you just to push the fabric aside and starting to tease you with one of his fingers.

You bite his lower lip now, loving the sensation that he is causing with his finger, but wanting much more than just his finger inside of you.

Pushing his unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders, you let it fall onto the kitchen floor; you slide your hands over his arms, and gasp when he pushes two fingers inside of you. You push his hand away and reach for his fly, unzipping it quickly. He notices that and arches his brows, but you don't see it because you are too focused in wanting to have him inside you.

He slides his hand from your knee to your thighs, making you wrap your legs around him. He kisses your neck when he feels your hand stroking him once, and you guide him inside of you slowly.

His hands go from your thighs to your waist and you can feel him reaching up to the clasp of your bra behind your back. He undoes the clasps in no time, while making slow movements in and out of you. When his hand cups your left breast - still under your blouse and unclasped bra - you bite his shoulder, lost in the feeling of his thumb caressing your nipple, and he thrusts harder when he feels your teeth marking his skin.

You kiss all the way from his shoulder to his lips, and kiss him passionately when he starts to hit just the right spot inside of you.

Your lips only break contact when you moan his name against his own lips. You feel the sweat forming on your bodies, and you take your blouse off together with your bra, tossing them aside. Because right now, it's just too hot to stay dressed.

He moves faster with each thrust and you know that you are not going to last much longer. He lets go of your breasts, sliding his hands to your waist, and brings you closer to the edge of the counter. And the edge of your orgasm.

The only thing that you can feel now is him coming inside of you, just a millisecond before your muscles start to contract around him, and you moan his name again.

His movements are slowing down as your breaths start to become normal again.

You kiss the corner of his lips with your legs still around him and him still inside of you.

"So..."

He looks at you and waits until you look back at him.

"Pizza?" he asks, now looking at the vegetables by your side.

You chuckle while shaking your head at him.

"Guess so," you say, planting a light kiss on his chin, not quite ready to slide off the counter yet.

"Now tell me," you say, looking at his swollen lips, and then looking in his eyes before asking, "where did this sudden desire to have sex in the kitchen come from?" And you kiss him softly while unwrapping your legs from around him.

"You ask as if I was the only one having a mind-blowing-orgasm here on this counter," he answers, looking at you suspiciously, resting one hand on your waist, and sliding out of you.

You arch your brows at him and smile, nodding slowly.

"I'll take this and assume that _this_ wasn't your first time on a kitchen counter?" you ask, looking away from him and reaching for your shirt that is lying on the counter by your side.

He chuckles at your question/statement and wraps his hands around your waist and gives your naked shoulder a light kiss.

The unexpected action causes goosebumps all over your body.

"Are you kidding? You have no idea-", (at least he hopes you don't). "-how much hookers charge for sex-out-of-bed these days!" he says, looking at your face, amused by the little hint of jealousy in your eyes.

"Right," you say, rolling your eyes at the smirk in his face. You put the blouse over your head, covering your naked upper body. Without the bra, he notices.

Sliding off of the counter and looking at the floor you find his shirt. You pick it up, while he reaches for his pants and boxers and gets dressed again.

"What about Stacy?" you ask, handing his shirt back to him. You blush when your eyes find his.

"She didn't used to swallow," he answers you, before giving you a light kiss and smiling at the jealous way you are acting. You try to suppress a smile, but you fail. So you give him a passionate kiss.

"So, what about that pizza?" you ask, still smiling at him when you two break apart.

"You know that you are paying for it, right?" he asks, before you two head to your living room to call the pizza delivery number.


End file.
